Rivals
by deadeb03
Summary: Vegeta is fed up with Goku's inability to take their training seriously, purposefully holding back to let Vegeta think he has a chance at winning just once. But after giving Trunks advice about his own training problems, he sees things in a different light.
1. Chapter 1

Rivals

Vegeta forced his matted eyes open and was surprised to see the sun nearing the desert's horizon. He'd been unconscious for hours. Summoning his strength, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and focused his blurry eyes on his surroundings.

Blood. Everywhere.

How much of it was his own and how much belonged to the unmoving figure beside him, he couldn't tell. He itched from it dried onto his skin in the brutal afternoon heat. The sand was saturated with it. The air reeked of it.

Muscles screamed of the battle waged. Broken bones ground with every movement. Ripped clothing hindered his progress as he inched across the burning sand. With mixed feelings, he confirmed the body was still breathing. Barely.

Searching through the man's clothing, Vegeta found what he sought and pushed it into his mouth. Within seconds, a wave of strength washed away the pain. He jumped to his feet, marveling at the satisfying increase of power as he flexed his muscles, making dried blood flake away to be carried off by the gentle breeze.

He stood over the bloodied and battered figure, his shadow darkening the man's face in his eclipse. "You know I could easily terminate you," he said with a sneer.

With one tattered boot, he gave the prone body a gentle shove, rolling him over onto his back. Black scorch marks across the exposed chest testified to Vegeta's relentless ki blasts. An arrogant smile spread across his face. It had been a good fight. Intense and challenging. They'd battled with both their trusted old attacks and experimented with new ones that effectively caught each other off guard.

Slowly, the smile slid from the Saiyan Prince's face. As he replayed the fight in his mind, he realized a flaw in his otherwise obvious victory. As anger seeped through his body, his muscles rippled with tension. He had to force himself to take a deep breath to keep from blasting a hole in the defenseless man, snuffing out the last spark of life still barely hanging on deep inside the body.

"Damn you!" he cursed. Vegeta opened his hand...not to deploy the fatal attack, but to reveal a second Sensu bean resting innocently in his palm. "You're lucky I need you, Kakarot. You're the only one who can make me stronger." He shoved the bean into Goku's mouth, grabbing his opponent's lower jaw to help crush the bean between his teeth. Resisting the urge to give the unconscious body a resounding kick, he strode off to await Goku's recovery.

He didn't have long to wait before the annoyingly cheerful voice once again grated on his nerves.

"Whoa! Look at this mess! That was some battle hunh, Vegeta? Good thing we had those Sensu beans or we'd have both baked out here until we were extra crispy. Oh great! Another outfit ruined! Chi Chi's gonna kill me! She already complains about how much time I spend training, how much food I eat, how I don't help out around the house, how much mending she has to do on my clothes...and how much food I eat."

Goku laughed at his own joke until he realized Vegeta wasn't responding. He stood, arms folded and back turned as usual, staring at the last rays of light streaking across the sky. Yet there was furious tension radiating off him like waves of heat.

"What's up, Vegeta?" Goku reached out a hand to lay on Vegeta's shoulder.

As soon as their skin touched, Vegeta spun around faster than the speed of light, his fist planted deep in Goku's stomach. The younger Saiyan doubled over as the air was driven from his body by the unexpected attack. He staggered back a couple steps before losing his balance and landing hard on his seat in the soft sand. Gasping for breath, he looked up at his assailant in confusion.

"What was...that...for?" Goku managed, struggling to force his lungs to respond.

In answer, Vegeta struck him across the face with the back of his hand. Goku, seeing the attack coming in plenty of time to block or dodge, allowed the blow to land and jerk his head to one side. Slowly, he turned his face back up to stare calmly into Vegeta's.

"Problem, Vegeta? Or are we starting this fight all over again? I'm out of beans, you know."

"Damn you, Kakarot!" Vegeta roared. "You had the upper hand and you backed off! You could have easily defeated me with that head lock, but you loosened your grip enough to let me escape!"

Goku calmly got to his feet. "That's right. There were at least four different times I could've ended it. But what good would that have done us?"

Vegeta shook with barely contained fury, and his opponent's flippant response to his frustration only fueled the fire inside him. "You weren't taking this battle seriously at all! You were just playing with me, letting me think I could defeat you just once!"

"Vegeta, this wasn't a real battle. We were just training. What good would it do either of us to end the fight as soon as possible? The longer we keep it going, the more practice we get. More practice means we both get stronger. You're helping me just as much as I'm helping you. That's what friends do."

Vegeta raised himself off the ground just enough to be able to look down his nose at his fellow warrior. "We're not friends, Kakarot. We're rivals." With a burst of energy he flew off, leaving his rival in the middle of the sandy desert painted black with their dried blood.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dad! You're home! Would you train with me?"

Vegeta's tattered boots hadn't even touched down before Trunks came running from the house, jumping up and down with excitement. Inwardly, he groaned. After today's grueling training of his own, all he wanted was to eat the dinner he missed, wash the dried blood and sweat from his skin, and sink into a relaxing sleep. Watching a child attempt to perfect punches and kicks was far from the relaxation he sought.

Training with his son wasn't nearly as satisfying as he'd hoped it would be when they first started. He'd been expecting to train his son the way all young Saiyan warriors were trained on his planet. But the first time Trunks arrived at the dinner table bumped, bruised, and bloodied, Bulma decided her baby boy would never be trained as a true Saiyan.

Vegeta never had a chance in that fight. So he'd agreed to train his half-Saiyan son in a more earthling style of teaching. It was much slower, but made living in the same house as Bulma more bearable.

"It's late," Vegeta snapped and headed into the house. Trunks followed, dejectedly dragging his feet. Vegeta noticed an aura of sadness around his son, and tried to push down the feeling of regret creeping up from somewhere deep inside him. He sighed...part at his son's reaction to his curt response and part from the domestic lifestyle that threatened his hard-forged demeanor. "I thought you were going to train with Kakarot's son today."

"I was," Trunks answered, perching on a stool to watch his father empty the refrigerator, "but he said all I was doing was beating him up. He said he wasn't learning anything fighting with me, and he'd rather train with his mom. So I came home."

"You are older, stronger, and much more experienced," Vegeta reminded him. "If you want a better sparring partner, you'll have to take the time and effort to teach him. He could learn much more from you than an earthling woman who can't even control her energy."

"Yeah, but those practice exercises are so boring. We want to fight, not worry about stance and form and all that stuff."

Vegeta carelessly dumped random food onto the serving platter he used as a dinner plate and thought back to his own training days as a young boy. He remembered the monotony of working only on skills and wanting nothing more than to put them into action. It was only when he was in active battle that he really learned to fight.

"Then teach him by action. Show him stance and form and new moves while you're fighting. You'll need to restrain your strength and abilities to stay more to his level for awhile, but if he's anything like the rest of his family, he'll learn and grow stronger quickly."

"So you're saying I should hold back and let him win when we fight?"

"Not win," Vegeta corrected, his stomach lurching at the very thought. "If you let him win, he won't learn anything. He needs to be able to think there's a chance of beating you if he just keeps working harder. That will drive him to want to train with you more, which will only help your own training. He'll grow stronger and more confident and start coming up with his own attacks which you can then learn from him, making you an even stronger fighter as you work to keep defeating him. That's how you get a better rival."

"Thanks! That sounds like a great idea!" Trunks happily bounded from the stool, turning back to his father before leaving the room. "But we're not rivals, Dad. We're friends."

Vegeta froze as Trunks ran up the stairs to his bedroom. The advice he'd just given his son echoed in his head, making his chest tighten to the point of pain. Dropping the half eaten turkey leg, he rose as if in a dream and walked outside. Slowly, he drifted upward into the night sky, comparing his son's situation with his own. In his tactical mind, he knew Goku was only helping Vegeta become stronger, but in his prideful heart, he resented the need for the other warrior's help.

Coming to a halt high above his home, he turned to look at the mountaintop far in the distance. The familiar anger washed over him at his continued attempts to become the strongest, most powerful Saiyan in history. He'd wanted to achieve it on his own. He'd wanted to do it on his own terms, using the only other remaining Saiyan as an unpleasant, yet necessary, means to his own goal. He'd wanted to be the commanding force in his own destiny.

But someone else had been in charge of his fate all this time, making Vegeta stronger, faster, and a more powerful warrior while holding himself back...keeping him motivated enough to strive to succeed against his greatest rival.

"Damn you, Kakarot!" he shouted, releasing his frustration into the starry sky. Feeling considerably calmer and more in control, he whispered one word before descending back to earth.

"Thanks."


End file.
